


A Dance for the King - Part VII

by sporadic_obsession



Series: A Dance for the King - A Medieval SakuAtsu Story [7]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Belly Dancing, Exotic Dancer Miya Atsumu, King Sakusa Kiyoomi, M/M, Miya Atsumu-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29245908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporadic_obsession/pseuds/sporadic_obsession
Summary: Atsumu finds that getting married to a King is far more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: A Dance for the King - A Medieval SakuAtsu Story [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112663
Comments: 22
Kudos: 121





	A Dance for the King - Part VII

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello!  
> Welcome to another installment of "danny really bends the rules of historical accuracy to fit her needs", hehe.  
> This time, I managed to write about the actual wedding! Go me!  
> Kudos and comments always welcome and very much appreciated.  
> And if you wanna scream at me on twitter about this, as always, you can find me [here!](https://twitter.com/sprdc_obssn)

Atsumu is _tired._

It’s been around two months since King Sakusa proposed to him - and he said yes, for that matter - and Atsumu is exhausted. The King, sticking to whatever traditions have been passed out to him, announced their engagement to the whole kingdom soon after all the nobles had left the castle when the ball was over. He inked the paper himself, and then had Bokuto go and hammer it to the door of their main church, where everyone could see. After that, word was passed around and before long the whole kingdom had heard the news - King Sakusa was going to marry Miya Atsumu.

Now, most people don’t really know who Atsumu is - except for his old clients, the people from his hometown, the king’s staff, and the nobles who attended the ball… Alright, maybe a lot of people know who Atsumu is, currently, and the dancer is very tired because of it. After he’d told Sakusa that night that he missed home, the King arranged a carriage and had Hinata escort him and Osamu back to the place that saw them grow up. Word of his marriage had already reached town, so the visit was very, _very_ animated. Some people congratulated him and offered him drinks, while others showed him a reverence they’d never offered him before. It was honestly a bit off-putting.

Atsumu doesn’t think he’d ever been happier to see the castle grounds than after the visit. Despite having enjoyed getting to see some of his old neighbours, especially when he could tell the town was doing better than before - thanks to Sakusa’s planning to help its people. Still, going back to the castle and getting to sleep in his King’s arms again felt like returning home, and Atsumu found himself breathing easier as soon as he was beyond the fort walls that surrounded the castle.

He feels like he’s suffocating within those same walls, now.

The wedding is coming up soon - just a few days to go. And, really, Atsumu can hardly wait to be married to Sakusa; it’s not that he’s looking forward to not be a Miya anymore - he thinks he might miss the name, even if only a little - but he just wants all this over and done with. He has been measured more times than he can count in the past two months. He has been taught more about how to behave like a royal - like a _King_ \- than he has ever wanted to learn. He’s been taught to write - by a proper teacher this time around - and has begun assisting his husband-to-be in all matters that require his decision, which is draining. Someone - Atsumu still doesn’t know who - tried to drag him to dancing lessons, and that’s where he drew the line.

Exhausted from his day of being dragged around the castle to look at all the preparations for the wedding, Atsumu groans into his pillow as soon as he falls into bed. He ignores Kiyoomi’s chuckle from next to him, pouting with his eyes closed as he feels his nimble fingers massage his head, hand tangled in his hair. He knows he’s acting childish, that Kiyoomi has been dealing with everything on his own for years now, but he can’t help it; he’s really, _really_ tired.

“Atsu, love, turn around, you’re going to suffocate,” the King calls from his right, where he’s sitting with his back against the headboard of their shared bed, a book held carefully in one hand. “If you want, you can rest your head on my lap as I read to you,” he offers.

Despite grumbling, Atsumu shuffles under the comforter that covers the two of them until he’s laying on his side, his cheek pressed against one of Kiyoomi’s thighs, eyes facing the end of their bed as he rests a hand upon his knee. He really isn’t being ungrateful about this whole ordeal, although to some it might seem that way, but Atsumu is used to a simpler life. All the chaos that has surrounded him since Kiyoomi announced their engagement has been draining, especially since it’s getting closer and closer to his birthday.

“Omi-Omi,” he calls once he’s settled down, his fingertips tracing the naked skin of the King’s knee. A small smile is pulled out of his lips when the man fidgets slightly at the touch. “Did I ever tell ya when my birthday is?”

“No, you didn’t,” Kiyoomi says from above him now, his hand still in his hair as he peeks down at him from under the book he’s holding. “But your brother did. October 5th, right?” He mentions, and Atsumu gazes up in wonder, giving a small nod, to which the King smiles softly. “Why did you ask me that now?”

“Dunno, falls pretty close after the wedding, was just thinkin’ about it,” the dancer responds in a mumble, eyes closing and a happy sigh passing his lips as his lover continues to massage his scalp, gently. “Hm, speakin’ of that though, when’s yer birthday?”

“March 20th,” Sakusa replies easily, deciding for the time being to put down his leather-bound book on the bedside table so he can look down at Atsumu without anything in the way. “I don’t like to make a big deal out of it, however. It’s just another year, nothing of importance.”

“Nothin’ of- Omi! It’s yer birthday, ya gotta enjoy the day and whatnot. At least mama always told me an’ Samu that when we were little.” Atsumu opens his eyes once again, finding the King’s eyes already on him and offering him a smile. “So yer just a few months older than me, right?”

“Ah, I’m actually younger than you.” There’s a pause in Kiyoomi’s massage as Atsumu gasps out a “ _what?_ ” at his response, but the King simply chuckles. “Does it even matter, love? What difference does it make? If we can love each other despite my status, what difference does it make that I’m younger? I love you just the same.”

Atsumu finds himself blushing at the proclamation of affection from his King, an automatic response whenever the words spill out of Kiyoomi’s lips. And, really, he says them often enough that it shouldn’t fluster Atsumu like this anymore, but he finds that his body never listens. He turns to face away from Kiyoomi’s face once more, his body relaxing as his exhaustion catches up to him again. As the man he’s going to marry picks up his book and starts reading the words out loud, Atsumu drifts off to sleep with a smile on his lips.

The next morning, he wakes up feeling refreshed, and ready to face another day of being pulled around from one room to another. It starts with breakfast in bed with the King, which he enjoys leisurely and with a smile on his lips the entire time. Once they’re done, they each go their separate ways after getting ready for the day - the King goes to the throne room, because he has a few appointments he needs to get through, and Atsumu goes to the tailor. Again.

“Seriously, Asahi-san, I think yer bein’ a little too cautious, no? I haven’t changed measurements in the past week, I swear,” Atsumu complains as the measuring tape is stretched across his chest once more, although he says it lightly. The tailor is very easily spooked, despite his imposing looks, and Atsumu doesn’t want to be the one to cause an emotional breakdown.

“Forgive me, your Highness, but I just-”

“Ah, don’t call me that, c’mon. I’ve been here long enough that ya can call me by my given name, right?” Atsumu insists, not for the first time, chuckling as Asahi ducks behind the mannequin where the dancer’s wedding outfit is being assembled. “Anyway, I’m not, like, King yet, so ya can drop the formalities. I’m jus’ Atsumu right now, skin prickled by yer little pins and all.”

“Yeah, Asahi, don’t be so formal.” The voice interrupting them belongs to the jeweler, Nishinoya Yuu, who stops by often. “Atsumu, don’t let him bully you into more measurements just because he’s nervous,” the short man says, bouncing through to room until he stands by Asahi’s side, finger poking his cheek.

“It’s fine, I’m just kiddin’. Believe it or not, bein’ pricked by pins is better than most of the stuff they’re havin’ me do,” the dancer says with a chuckle, lowering his arms back to his side when he sees Asahi put down the measuring tape. “Can ya believe someone tried to get me to go to dancing lessons? _Me_?”

“Maybe they thought you only knew how to belly dance,” Nishinoya quips from where he’s perched against Asahi’s side, impeding him from actually doing any work on Atsumu’s wedding outfit. “I mean, they’ve never seen you dance anything else, right?”

“I can fuckin’ waltz!” Atsumu roars with indignation, huffing as he steps out of the small box Asahi had told him to stand on. “Come here, short-stuff. I’ll show ya how a good dancer does it,” he says, holding out his hand for the short jeweler to take.

“Ah, Atsumu-san, I really don’t know how to dance, I’ll break like a thousand things,” Nishinoya retorts with a laugh, although he does step closer to the dancer.

“S’fine, ya can step on my feet, I’ll lead,” Atsumu says dismissively, grabbing Nishinoya’s hand before he can pull back.

True to his words, Atsumu is the one to lead while the short man steps right on top of his feet, most of his weight carried by Atsumu as he holds him with one arm around his waist, his other hand wrapped around the jeweler’s calloused one. He hums a song he’s heard the musicians play before that seems appropriate, and moves around the free space of the room with Nishinoya in his hold, performing a perfect waltz despite the constrictions of space and of having to carry the man as to make sure they don’t trip over his feet and fall on their faces. He hears Nishinoya laugh as they dance, and when he glances at Asahi, he finds him smiling in amusement at the two of them, a hand covering the lower half of his face when a chuckle breaks through his lips just as Atsumu decides to dip Nishinoya back. It’s a short dance, just a way to pass the time than a need to prove himself, but when Atsumu pulls back and sees the couple grin with ease - especially the tailor, who had been so nervous before - he deems his job done.

“Alright, an’ with that, I must go. I could dodge the dancing lessons, but I’ve still got everything goin’ on,” he says, wide grin on his lips. His eyes flicker to the outfit Asahi is putting together for him, and his gaze softens, along with his words. “That looks real nice, Asahi-san. Great job.”

And, with that, he bows and leaves the tailor’s room. He goes to the kitchens next, mostly because he wants to bother Osamu before he goes to his etiquette lessons, but ends up pouting when the man is nowhere to be found, and drags himself to the presence of Kita Shinsuke, who awaits him in a big office.

“Hiya, Kita,” he greets upon entering, body relaxed and his lips pulled into their usual smile.

“Your Highness,” the silver-haired man retorts, standing from his seat to bow to Atsumu, despite how many times he’s asked him not to do it. “Ready for your lesson?”

“Do I have a choice?” Atsumu grumbles, but it’s the only sign of complaint he makes before Kita begins his long, long lesson on how he should behave as a royal.

Atsumu isn’t sure how long he spends inside the small office, reenacting different possible scenarios and practicing his wave - who knew he had to wave a certain way, once he becomes King? - but by the time he’s done, he’s never been happier to see Hinata’s face in his life. Although he likes Kita and how soft he is even when he’s assertive, he’s thankful when the guard knocks on the door, letting him know he’s being called for lunch with Kiyoomi. He practically flees the room with a loud farewell to his etiquette teacher.

Lunch with the King is a welcome reprieve from his day of chaos. He sits on his lap, disregarding the many empty chairs strewn around the table where they’re eating, and allows Kiyoomi’s body warmth to recharge his energy. He allows the King to feed him, content to be so close to the man he loves for the time being, and they make small conversation as they share a meal. It’s calm, and quiet, and Atsumu enjoys every second of it, until he’s forced to get up so they can continue with their separate tasks for the day.

Before he leaves, however, he pulls Kiyoomi in for a long, yet soft, kiss; he breathes in his scent and allows it to stick to his heart as he pulls back, eyes shining with happiness as he looks at Kiyoomi’s loving expression.

“Just a few more days, my love,” the King says in a whisper, leaning forward to give Atsumu another peck on the lips, and then they go their separate ways.

In the afternoon, Atsumu is allowed to take a short stroll through the gardens, which he does slowly. Besides lunch with Kiyoomi, walking through the fields of growing grass and budding flowers is his favorite part of his day. He gets to breathe in fresh air, and his fingertips graze the different colored petals of the flowers that have already bloomed as he walks, and by the time he reaches his destination, he always feels completely rid of whatever tension he’s accumulated throughout the morning.

His destination, in this case, is a small table with two chairs in the middle of the gardens, where his calligraphy teacher already awaits. Atsumu greets him with a smile, pulling the chair across from him as he does so.

“Tobio-kun! Hope I didn’t keep ya waitin’ long,” he says, twirling the quill with each he will be writing out today between his fingers.

“Hinata just left, it’s fine,” the calligrapher says in response, a slight tint to his cheeks, and grabs his own quill so they can get to work.

Practicing calligraphy with Kageyama Tobio isn’t actually that bad, Atsumu will admit. The man is quiet and doesn’t complain if Atsumu fills in the silence, although he is a perfectionist, and has Atsumu practice the same word over and over if it comes out even slightly wrong when he writes it down. Still, Atsumu likes him well enough. It’s especially fun to be around him whenever Hinata happens to stop by, the interactions between the two more amusing than some of the jokers he’s had the chance of seeing perform - one minute they’re at each other’s throats, insults on the tip of their tongues, and the next they’re blushing and avoiding each other’s eyes because one of them confessed to something they shouldn’t have. Atsumu has considered trying to help them get their heads out of their asses so they can get together, but he’s enjoying the way things are far too much, for now.

When Atsumu leaves Kageyama’s side, he gets to stroll back to the castle with ink-stained hands, which he washes promptly as soon as he finds a washroom, and then gets to go meet Kiyoomi in the throne room. For the rest of the day, he sits to his side as people come in for an audience and even gets to whisper his opinion on smaller matters before Kiyoomi makes a decision. It’s not his favorite way to spend time with his husband-to-be, but Atsumu endures it, because he loves him.

After everyone has been seen, and they’ve had their dinner, the two retire to their quarters, sharing a bath to save time, and fall into bed together. They explore each other’s bodies with languish movements, taking as much time as they can to taste and feel one another as if they’ve never done it before. Atsumu is always glad he gets to worship his King in a way no one else can, with kisses and bites that taint his skin, and welcomes the amount of love he receives in return, moaning out Kiyoomi’s name loud and unashamed. Once they’re done, they clean up lazily and then fall into each other once again, this time settling down for sleep. Kiyoomi reads a short passage of the book they’re yet to finish, but Atsumu has been so tired these days, he ends up falling asleep just a few sentences in.

The days keep moving and repeating themselves at the same pace, although sometimes Atsumu is pulled aside to choose flowers for the wedding and to taste test some sort of weird recipe Suna is putting together, but he navigates through the days with the same goal in mind - he will marry King Sakusa Kiyoomi, and he will finally, _finally_ be free. Although he knows he’ll have other responsibilities, although he’s aware he’ll have to behave like a king once the time comes, he just wants all the fuss that’s happening now to be over.

Being so lost in cruising through the days, it’s only natural that the day of the wedding sneaks up on him as if it’s a shark, and he’s a lonely man lost at sea.

When he awakes to find Kiyoomi gone from the room in the morning, Atsumu pouts. They have been using their early rise to spend quality time together, eating their breakfast in bed and basking in each other’s company so that they can survive the long hours until they meet again. Therefore, waking up alone comes as a shock to the dancer, who huffs, displeased. He considers rebelling and staying in bed all day as retaliation, but before he can make the conscious decision to not move, his brother barges into the room.

“Tsumu, lazy ass, what’cha doin’ in bed still?” Osamu drawls as soon as he’s inside, pulling back the duvet that covers Atsumu’s otherwise naked body, disregarding his loud whine of complaint. “I brought food. Get yer ass up, Asahi’s gonna be here soon with yer clothes,” his twin continues, and Atsumu glares at the back of his head.

“Why the fuck is Asahi even comin’ here?” The dancer grumbles as he stands and stretches, grabbing the sleep clothes he ended up not wearing the night before and putting them on.

“Are ya actually stupid?” Osamu looks back at him with a raised eyebrow, and Atsumu pokes his tongue out of his mouth as a retaliation - childish, yes, but it’s his only response when his twin looks at him as if he’s gone mad. “Tsumu. D’ya know what day it is?”

“I… Uh.” Atsumu is actually stuck for a moment, trying to think on where his days have gone, and then it dawns on him.

_He’s getting married today._

The realization hits him like lightning. His eyes widen, and his mouth opens in an ‘o’ shape that shows his surprise. He looks at his twin with shock written all over his features, and he feels actually stupid that he managed to forget. He’s been so tired, so busy, that time slipped by without him noticing. Now, it’s his wedding day, and all of the nerves he hasn’t had a chance to feel hit him all at once.

“Samu. _Samu._ I’m gettin’ married,” he gasps, and for once his twin doesn’t laugh at his stupidity, instead offering him a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Samu. What the fuck. How did I forget I’m gettin’ married today? What the hell am I even s’posed to do? I don’t remember shit. Oh _fuck_.”

“Tsumu, breathe, dammit.” Osamu places his other hand on Atsumu’s free shoulder, squeezing him softly. “Don’t panic on me now, idiot. Ya’ve been preparin’ for this for _months_. Ya got this. Besides, I think even if ya fuck up, yer King’s gonna still want you.” There’s a pause, then, before Osamu tacks in, “probably.”

“Samu!” The whine in Atsumu’s voice is high-pitched and almost harmful to the ears, but Osamu withstands it anyway, squeezing his shoulders again - it helps ease Atsumu’s sudden anxiety, and he finds himself sighing as his shoulders slump under Osamu’s hold. “Ya mentioned food?”

“‘Course I did, stupid. I asked Asahi to drop my clothes here too so I can help ya get ready. Sit down an’ eat.”

Atsumu isn’t sure where he would be if he didn’t have his brother, he really isn’t. Despite being younger - even if only by a few minutes - he has always been looking out for Atsumu however he can. Atsumu, as the older twin, has always felt the responsibility of taking care of Osamu - he started working early, he sacrificed many hours of his days, and sometimes nights, so he could make sure they had enough food on their table so Osamu wouldn’t go hungry. Atsumu made sure that when Osamu started his own work, he didn’t overexert himself to the point of exhaustion. When he learned about Suna courting him, he gave the man the staredown of a lifetime, even though they’d been friends for many years prior to that. As an older brother, that was his duty.

Yet, Osamu has always looked after Atsumu in his own way. While Atsumu worked for their food, Osamu learned how to cook it and always prepared his favorite meals whenever he knew he was feeling down. Osamu kept him safe when people got a little too handsy at one of his performances, and protected him from unwanted advances whenever they decided to join the people celebrating something or the other back in town. Osamu learned to sew in order to fix his outfits whenever they began falling apart, and he was always the voice of reason to prevent Atsumu from making a fool of himself in any given situation.

Despite their silly fights and the fact they insult each other more than they compliment one another, they’re like two ends of a rope - opposite ends of the same spectrum, both needed if a knot needs to be tied. And even though Atsumu is a few hours away from becoming a Sakusa instead of being a Miya, he knows their bond will never break; he knows, deep down, they’ll always be the same Miya twins, the same two people who’ve held each other in their toughest hours, and who always bent over backwards to allow the other to grow.

Atsumu eats the breakfast Osamu prepared for him as he thinks about this. His favorite breakfast food is on display on the silver tray he carried to the room and placed on Kiyoomi’s desk, and the two share the meal in quietude. Usually, their breakfast affairs are much more rambunctious, most likely with food thrown at each other, but Atsumu appreciates the change, today.

Just as they’re finishing the last of the food, there’s a knock at the door. Osamu stands from his half of the bench he’d been sharing with his twin, and opens the door for the newcomer. Asahi walks in along with his assistant, Kiyoko, both carrying clothes for the twin brothers to wear. Atsumu has met the woman on only two occasions, but doesn’t mind her presence; she has a sort of calm aura about her that eases his anxiety even further.

“Asahi-san! Can ya believe I forgot I was gettin’ married today?” Atsumu comments through a mouthful of food, stopping short of offering the tailor and his assistant a grin when he sees the disapproving look in Osamu’s face.

“Well, Your High-- I mean, Atsumu-san, you have been pretty busy,” the tall, shy man says in reply, laying down the outfit he’s carrying on the bed after Osamu straightens the duvet that’s on it. “I brought your clothes. They shouldn’t be too difficult to put on, but if you have any difficulties, you can find me back in my quarters. You remember where they are, right?”

“Mmhm!” Atsumu stretches once again as he pulls himself to his feet, smiling at the tailor once he’s swallowed the food he was chewing on. “Thanks, should be all good though. Are ya goin’ with Noya-san to the weddin’?”

The blush on Asahi’s face tells Atsumu the answer to his question, but he grins more genuinely at his nod, anyway.

“We need to go, Asahi-san,” the tailor’s assistant whispers from next to him, quiet as a mouse, and Atsumu offers her a smile as well.

“Alright, off ya go then, I guess I’ll see ya soon!”

Atsumu watches as Asahi and Kiyoko bow once before him, before they leave his quarters. Osamu’s outfit has been laid down next to his on the bed, and Atsumu whistles as he takes in the lavish pieces of clothing. Laid there are dark grey pants with flowery black designs that seem cuffed just right - which lets him know Osamu also had to suffer through having his measurements taken by the overzealous tailor - and a black undershirt that’s to be topped by a tailcoat in a wine-red tone and a velvet finish. The tailcoat is the most extravagant piece of the outfit, with black, puffed out cuffs at the wrists that match the design of the lapel and collar.

Next to his brother’s outfit, Atsumu’s own clothing is also laid. His own is more regal, in tones of off-white for the shirt and tailcoat, both adorned with gold embroidery and buttons of the same material. The main fabric also has a flowery design in a darker beige, that goes surprisingly well with the long strips of gold that outline the ends of the tailcoat. Atsumu is wearing pants of the same color underneath, but it’s obvious that the centerpiece of the outfit is the golden tailcoat, which he adores; Asahi really pulled through with this one.

Before he puts the clothes on, Atsumu takes a bath at his brother’s command. Osamu, apparently, had already taken one that morning, so he uses the time that Atsumu takes in the bath to change into his own clothes. When Atsumu walks through the archway that divides the bathroom from the bedroom, he stops for a second, grinning at how fancy his brother looks for a moment.

“Ya look good, Samu,” he says, and although he meant to say it playfully, as part of their usual back-and-forth banter, the words come out sincere.

“Yeah, one of us had to,” his twin says in reply, ignoring the honesty that’s layered over Atsumu’s words as he glances at him. “Dry up, get dressed, I need to fix yer hair before we go. Rin’s waitin’ with Hinata with a carriage, we need to get goin’ soon.”

Atsumu gives a short nod as he starts toweling off the droplets of water that cling to his skin and hair. With the weather colder now, he doesn’t drag the process out for longer than strictly necessary - even with the fire from the torches hanging on the walls warming the room, it’s cold enough that he doesn’t want to remain unclothed for too long. He pulls on his undergarments first, tightening whatever needs tightening, before he slides his legs through the trousers laid out for him on the bed. He doesn’t button those right away, opting instead to put on his white undershirt first and tuck it in, only then securing the trousers around his hips, tightly. The tailcoat is heavy when he grabs it, but Osamu helps him with getting it on just right, and Atsumu doesn’t even get to touch the buttons before his twin starts doing them for him.

They’re quiet even when Atsumu is fully clothed, his white socks up to his knees, where his slacks cut off, and his shoes on his feet with a little help from his twin. Osamu doesn’t say a word even as he dries Atsumu’s lightened hair as best as he can, using some sort of weird pomade to style it so it won’t fall over his forehead. Atsumu thinks he’s done once he’s got his hair done, but Osamu stops him from moving and instead grabs his right hand and slides a simple ring over his index finger.

“Samu?” Atsumu asks in surprise, looking down at the piece of jewelry. It’s a golden band with the letter ‘M’ carved in its center.

“Tsumu,” his twin says, and there’s a serious tone to his voice that shuts the dancer before he can ask him what’s going on. “You’re gettin’ married today. In a few hours, yer name is not gonna be Miya anymore. You’re gonna be Sakusa Atsumu. You’re gonna be _king_ .” Atsumu blinks as his brother’s hands fall on his shoulders, bottom lip trembling as he spots the tears glistening in Osamu’s eyes. “But you’re always gonna be a Miya. I asked Noya to make this ring so ya’ll never forget. You’re still gonna be my pain-in-the-ass brother, Rin’s best friend, and ma an’ pa would be _so proud_.”

Atsumu finds himself gasping at the words, his chest rumbling with the need to cry. It’s been just the two of them for so long, sometimes Atsumu forgets to wonder what his parents would think of how he’s ended up. Would they be happy that he always put Samu first? Would they like to see him dance? Would they appreciate Kiyoomi looking after him? Would they love him?

_Would they be proud?_

“Fuck’s sake, Samu,” the dancer pulls his brother into a tight hug, ignoring the way Osamu grumbles about ruining their clothes before the wedding.

The two stay holding each other until a knock at the door is heard, and when Atsumu pulls away to wetly tell whoever is at the door to come in, he lifts his hand to clear the tears that slid down his cheeks. He doesn’t like crying. He hates the vulnerability of it all, especially when Osamu is around. He’s claimed, many years ago, that he was the strongest of the two; he can’t go and let Samu see his moments of weakness.

“Are you ready? We have to get going, Atsumu-san.” Hinata doesn’t enter the room, opting instead to just pop his head in through the open door, his face beaming with excitement. “It should take an hour or so to get to the church. The King’s already waiting there for you.”

“I still don’t understand why we couldn’t just have a garden weddin’ like Bokkun, but fine,” Atsumu grumbles from his spot, clearing his throat and offering the guard a grin. “Woah, Shouyou-kun, yer hair looks weird.”

“Yeah, Tobio helped me tame it a little,” Hinata replies, barely patting the top of his head, where his wild orange hair has been slicked back. “You look really nice. Both of you do, but Asahi really pulled all the punches for you, didn’t he?”

“Asahi does good work.” It’s Osamu who replies, his voice steady, as if he never even cried in the first place. He turns from Hinata to Atsumu once more. “Let’s go get you married, scrub.”

“Don’t be mean to me on my weddin’ day, asshole.”

Before they can break into a fight, before they can start throwing insults back and forth at each other, Hinata urges the twins to get moving so they can leave. He guides them through the empty hallways, the castle unusually quiet as they make their way to the front gates. Everyone has already headed to the church where they’re holding the ceremony, at the King’s request, so only Hinata, Suna, Osamu and Atsumu are left. Suna is by the carriage, which Hinata will drive down the path to town, and when he sees the twins he opens the carriage door so the twins can get in and sit before he follows them.

The drive to the church is mostly quiet, despite the fact the three men have known each other for many, many years. Atsumu’s hands fidget on his lap, fingers twisting and turning as he traces the patterns drawn down the extent of the sleeve of his tailcoat. Next to him, Osamu is looking out the window with his back straight, and his hand captured by Suna’s own, who sits across from the two. When the scenery outside shifts from tall trees and forest animals to small houses, the ground moving from dirt to cobblestone under the carriage, Atsumu takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

He doesn’t open his eyes again until the carriage stops and he can hear the chatter of people milling about outside.

“Alright, time to shine, Tsumu,” Suna says from his seat, dusting off his trousers even though they are pristine clean already. “Hinata and I will go in front. Don’t get distracted by the people outside.” Atsumu nods at his best friend, finding himself with a soft smile on his lips when he sees him lean forward to press a kiss to Osamu’s lips, although he’d usually gag at the display.

Atsumu watches as Hinata opens the carriage door from the outside, beaming at the three men that sat on the inside before he steps aside to let Suna out. He breathes deeply as he hears the murmur of the townsfolk rise in volume, understanding his arrival, but doesn’t let it get to him. He focuses on Osamu descending from the carriage, waiting until his twin is on his own two feet by the small step that leads into the carriage to shuffle his way out.

As soon as he stands to his full height on the top step, he hears the gasps and murmurs grow around him. He takes a moment to look at the many people gathered on the path up to the church, with guards guaranteeing they don’t flood into it, and offers the people a smile. He knows there are people who are still doubtful of his marriage, but he smiles nonetheless; they don’t matter. He steps down to the ground beneath the carriage and smiles at his twin, who rolls his eyes in return, even though Atsumu can see the upturn of his lips as they walk side by side up to the church.

Atsumu has never quite been one for religion, despite the times they’re living in. He’s never fancied himself a believer in God, and has never prayed to a man he isn’t sure even exists. Yet, he appreciates the beauty of the church - tall, imponent, sacred. It’s beautiful, all made of stone with a huge tower at its front and a cross topping it off. It’s a lot bigger than the one in his hometown. As he stops in front of the open door, he can’t see all the way to the altar, where he knows the King awaits him, but he doesn’t mind; he needs one last second to steel his nerves.

“Tsumu, you’re gonna be fine,” Osamu whispers, taking hold of his arm before they walk in, together.

The echo of the musicians sounds almost ethereal as the twins step in. Atsumu straightens his back in an instant, face taut and expression soft as he allows Osamu to walk him down the aisle. He never imagined he’d get here, that he’d have his brother walking him down towards the start of a marriage with the love of his life, but he relishes the feeling. He tries to memorize the way the light shines in through the tall windows and how the colors shift through the vitrals. He counts each step he takes and how his twin’s steps are timed with his. He glances at the familiar faces the closer they get to the altar, finding not only the King’s staff beaming back at him, but even some of the people he was closest to, back home. He offers each of them a smile, appreciating their presence.

There’s only a few more steps that separate him and Kiyoomi, and Atsumu allows himself to finally take in the King’s appearance. Some of the curls in his hair fall down half of his face, although most of his hair is tied back in a low ponytail, revealing more of his expression than the King usually prefers. He’s wearing black trousers that cut off at the knee, like Atsumu’s own, and although he’s also donned in gold, the main color of his tailcoat is also black. The design of their outfits is different, but the closer Atsumu is to Kiyoomi, the more he can spot the resemblances - the gold lining, the flower designs. They look like two parts of a pair.

They are two parts of a pair, Atsumu supposes.

Smiling wider, he allows Osamu to give him off to Kiyoomi. The warmth of his hand, as the King takes it, makes him shudder imperceptibly. He walks beside his lover now, stopping in front of the priest who’s going to preside over the ceremony, and so the hour-long ordeal begins. Atsumu doesn’t pay attention to most of it, although he doesn’t allow his composure to fall, only really honing in when it’s time to vow to spend the rest of eternity with the man who’s beside him.

“I do,” he says, loud and clear and _honest_ , because, really, Atsumu can see no other way that he wants to continue his life if not by Kiyoomi’s side.

When his King says the words in return, he shudders once more, but this time his tremble is noticed. His lips are wobbly as the wedding band is slid over his finger - a perfect match for his engagement ring - and when he’s told he may kiss his _husband_ , he all but throws himself into Kiyoomi’s arms, appearances be damned. He kisses the King as if he’s a man dying of starvation, and the only way to breathe life back into him is through Kiyoomi’s lips. He doesn’t care that they’re being watched and applauded, doesn’t mind that his cheeks are stained with tears, because his lips feel on fire as they move against his King’s.

“Atsu,” the dark-haired man whispers against his lips, thumb swiping at the wetness sliding down the dancer’s skin. “Atsu, I love you, but we need to conclude the ceremony,” he continues, chuckling when Atsumu whines. “Please. I promise to give you many more kisses later.”

The promise is what makes Atsumu pull back, opening his glistening brown eyes to find Kiyoomi’s own dark ones staring back at him, with tears also pooled at the bottom. He reaches his thumb to the corner of his King’s eyes, gently brushing away the tears before they fall, and then offers him the widest grin he has as he takes a step back.

The ceremony continues, and Atsumu had almost forgotten that marrying the King means this is not just a wedding, but also a coronation.

As the priest continues talking, this time not talking about the love shared between the two men before him, but instead about the responsibilities God has instilled upon them as rulers of their Kingdom, Atsumu pays more attention. His expression shifts from beaming to determined, and he vows to do his best for the people, for the Kingdom. He kneels before Sakusa without preamble when the time comes for it, and allows him to place a crown - similar to the one Kiyoomi’s been wearing - over his blonde locks. He rises to meet his husband as a King, and the two turn to find the people in the church kneeling before them as the ceremony comes to a close.

Atsumu doesn’t like the reverence they’re offering him, still, but he accepts it; he knows this is his life, from here on out. As his hand is taken by Kiyoomi and they walk down the aisle, back to the church doors, he finds he doesn’t mind it so much. Bokuto and Hinata stand by the church doors, waiting for them; he smiles when he realizes both of them still have tears in their eyes.

“Hey, Omi,” he whispers as they stop to allow the guards to open the doors that separate them from the townspeople waiting to greet them outside.

“Yes, love?” The King - his King, his everything - whispers, offering a squeeze of his hand as he turns to face him with a soft smile.

“I didn’t get to say it back earlier, but I love ya too,” Atsumu say.

It’s the closest thing to reverence he can offer this man, who changed his life the first time they met and hasn’t stopped doing it since. He means it, however - every time he proclaims his love, every kiss they share, every touch; he means all of it. It’s the one thing he truly believes in. Not God, not fate; nothing comes close. He only believes in their love; in Kiyoomi’s vows to keep him happy till the end of their days, and his own promises to do it in return.

“I know, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Psst! If you made it this far and are curious to see the clothes I tried to describe for Sakusa, Tsumu and Samu, bug me and I’ll share the pics!  
> EDIT:  
> Ok ok I get it babes! Go [here and scroll down to see the pics!](https://twitter.com/sprdc_obssn/status/1358129437221470208?s=21) Thank you for the love 💕


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